


Backroad Bike Ride

by doctorsnug (gabewrites)



Series: TWRP Shorts [1]
Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Bicycles, hehe, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:18:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15523917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabewrites/pseuds/doctorsnug
Summary: Sung. Riding a bike.





	Backroad Bike Ride

It wasn't about where he was going, it was the wind in his face, zipping through his clothes and making the hair on his legs stand on end. No matter the weather it sent a breeze along his body that let him lose himself in the world. He was zipping fast under a thick line of trees and smiled when he heard the leaves rustle from the rush of air he sent against their branches, leaving a whirlwind of green life trailing behind himself. He could leave his mark on nature that way, his tired treading deep in wet grass, his leaves rustled from trees, his splashed puddles trailing shapes with the water stuck in his tires. That was his subtle mark on the world. 

Gliding down old back roads and sidewalks was his favorite. Nothing and no one to stop for, usually a nice amount of scenery, and he could speed along without judgement. Legs pumping, he looked around to make sure he was alone, no cars, no people, and propelled himself forward as fast as he could on strong legs with a slight incline. He felt his heart racing as he reached the top of the hill- that sort of thrum that could be felt from his chest to his fingertips to his head- and he just stopped. 

He stared at the slight downward slope that would help him fly along with no effort, listening to nothing but his steady, yet heavy breathing. The pound in his chest. The plinky sound his pedal made when he pushed it backwards.

He didn't push off as much as let the hill take him, let himself be guided by the earth with his eyes closed until he caught sight of the road in front of him again. He swerved from side to side with his momentum, to a rhythm. Something in his head. And then he started humming. Not singing, he didn't think that the earth alone wanted to hear that, but humming. Steady. Rhythmic. Heavy enough to feel the meaning through the vibration in his vocal chords. Enough to drown out his thoughts and fill them with something warm. 

When he lost momentum he built up as much as possible again, wiping a good deal of sweat off of his face and losing his humming rhythm while his chest tightened. Until he was flying down the old road again, warbled tune of Bicycle Race leaving his mouth while he laughed to himself. He actually sung a few words, losing himself in the wind, confident that it would catch them and carry them away. 

And then he reached the bottom of the hill with a sigh, leaning forward over his handlebars with his feet finally on the ground again. At a stop he could feel sweat dripping, feel the way his hands didn't want to grip quite right, and the way it dripped from his face down onto the ground. He only smiled and took a moment to catch his breath, adrenaline still coursing through him, a feeling of peace working its way into his exhausted frame.


End file.
